Dean's Secret Diary
by Georgie Lorraine
Summary: Considering that his Dad has a journal, Dean wants to have one, too. But seeing that his father's journal is already pretty detailed, he decides to write whatever comes to his mind.
1. Sammy said I'm not intellectual

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. _

_A/N: Alright, this is my first try at humor, so please be kind. ;) Please leave me a review. And definitely tell me if it is totally horrible! I hope you enjoy it._

1: „Sammy said I'm not intellectual"

Dear D- no. No, no, no, wait. I will not write „Dear Diary". I mean, I'm not a 12 year old girl. And I'm not Sammy. Alright.

Heyo Journal! (Sounds better, no?)

So. I figured I might need a journal, too. After all, Dad has one and it might come in handy once. At least if I find out something about some evil son of a bitch that Dad hasn't found out yet. Chances are rather low. So far, I will just write whatever comes to my mind.

Which is, right now, that Sam is a goddamn smartass. I might have to strangle him one day. At least that's my secret wish. I might not do it because I can't quite get used to the thought of living in prison. Whatever. You might want to know why I'm so annoyed by my baby brother right now. I'll tell you.

We've been to that bar last night, mostly because I wanted to drink a few beers. However, there was this really hot chick. She was dressed up in a red dress and I can tell you, she looked very sexy. And Sammy, of course, noticed that I had some interest in her. And guess what – he told me, that she was way out of my league! _He!_ How would _he_ know?

And that was only the beginning. I asked him why that would be and what did he say? It was because "women like her fancy intellect". I did not think too much of that, replying that I was very intellectual. He snorted. He actually _snorted._ By that I was already fuming. I made the mistake to ask him why he thinks I'm not smart.

He said, I'm quoting: "I never said you are not smart. You are smart – in you're very own way. You are smart when it comes to hunting. But smart isn't the same as intellectual. And _you _are definitely not intellectual."

Now see what his college education brought us. He thinks he's intellectual because he uses words like "corporeal". I asked him how many women he got into his bed using words like that. I mean, what lines do you make of "corporeal"? "Do you want to test how corporeal I am, baby?" I highly doubt that he got Jess this way.

His reaction was rolling his eyes. I HATE it when he does that. It makes me wanna put out his eyes with a stick – or maybe I should just call Bloody Mary, that would save me the prison. Too bad we already destroyed her.

And this hadn't even been enough. Because when I was finally looking for that girl again, she was gone. Thank you, Sammy!

So, this morning I snuck out of our room to buy this journal. I bought it in a book shop because I didn't want one that looked cheap. Normally, book shops are Sam's territory but I thought a look around might not harm me, after all. I ended up finding a guidebook that claimed to know what women really wanted. I leafed through a few pages and then I found it – it said that women liked men that had a good humor and brains. On the way home I pondered if maybe Sammy was right and I am not smart enough for chicks like that one. Of course I will never find out if _she_ was smart because thanks to Sammy she was gone. But I decided it might be a good idea to listen to Sam's choice of words more carefully – maybe I can pick up a word or two that actually sounds intellectual. I do that only to get better chicks of course. After all, I am not stupid. Got that? Good.

Alright, Sammy wants to take a shower now so I gotta leave the bathroom. I need to make sure he doesn't find my journal.

Dean


	2. Five reasons why peanut M&M’s make a goo

2: "Five reasons why peanut M&M's make a good breakfast"

Journal,

I really am pissed. We just stopped at a gas station – to get some petrol and something for breakfast. I got two bags of M&M's and a few chocolate bars. The filling station attendant gave me a weird look and said something about this being not the healthiest breakfast – isn't it enough that Sammy's complaining about this all the time? (Not to mention that the guy didn't look too healthy himself.) So, now I've decided to make a list why peanut M&M's _do_ make a good breakfast so I have a smart reply ready whenever someone says that again.

#1: Peanuts _are_ healthy.

#2: Other people eat doughnuts with chocolate for breakfast– M&M's contain chocolate, too. Where's the difference?

#3: You can use them to leave a trail in case you get kidnapped while having breakfast. I've already tested it. It works, trust my word.

#4: You don't need cutlery to eat them.

#5: You can see different colours without having to take drugs.

This should do the next time someone cracks a remark about my favourite meal. Especially Sammy since he obviously thinks I'm not intellectual (I didn't forget that). I should probably make lists like this one for everything he complains about all the time.

That would be a list why calling him Sammy is good, why "mullet rock" as he kindly puts it is better than any other music – and why Sammy looks ugly when he pouts like a little girl and why I'm sexier. Maybe I'll do that one day but for now one list is enough. It totally drained my brain to make up this one.

Just about time for a good breakfast with M&M's. Mmmmm... how do people survive without these? I know I couldn't.

Oh oh, now Sammy's giving me a weird look... Guess it's time to give him a few of the ultimate pro-peanut-M&M's reasons.

Well, I would've done so if it had been about my choice of breakfast. It wasn't. Just when I opened my mouth to say something he asked me what I was writing. I told him that I was writing something into my new journal and that he should keep his ugly nose out of it. He found that utterly funny and so I asked what is so funny about having an ugly nose. Only he wasn't amused about his nose but rather about the fact that I would be keeping a diary. I told him that Dad has one, too, but he said Dad uses it for his job. I told him I'd be doing so, too. Unfortunately he trapped me on that, saying if it was about hunting I could let him read it as we are reading Dad's journal all the time. Damn it, I didn't think about that. I just told him that I needed a little more privacy than Dad and ignored his snorting. I preferred eating my M&M's.

Now I really need to make sure he does not find my journal. I think he might go looking for it while I'm asleep or taking a shower – and he's the research king so I wouldn't put it past him to find it.

Dean

--

_Review?_


	3. What if Sammy was a chick?

3: "What if Sammy was a chick?"

Alright, I'll just skip the address from now. No matter how I put it, it still sounds girlish.

You know... I've been thinking about something all day. What if my beloved baby brother was a baby sister instead? What if Sammy was a chick?

I've been asking me this because he kinda does all the tasks that are considered female. Well, for us that means mostly shopping, you know, getting our groceries, but he's really devoted to it. He fulfills this task with as much passion as I do cleaning my weapons.

So... what if he was a girl? I guess he would be called Samantha.

I wonder if Samantha would be as tall as Sam is now. That would definitely be tall enough to work as a model. Though I don't believe she'd get a lot of jobs – can't imagine she'd be a real beauty because Sam isn't that beautiful at all. And why should he be more beautiful as a chick?

Oh, we would definitely need separate bedrooms. 'Cause I think she would have a whole army of cosmetics and would spend like three hours in the bathroom. The only advantage would be that I wouldn't be the one that occupies the bathroom the longest any more.

And would Samantha be anything good as a hunter? I'm not sure... The way Sam already fusses about everything is bad enough but as a babe? I'm sure she would be moaning about breaking her nails all the time. On the other hand her nails could probably come in handy – we wouldn't need a shovel to dig up graves. The fighting abilities are an interesting issue. Sam is rather good at it, even I have to admit that. Question is if Samantha would be good, too? Just imagine she'd be such a hot chick like Charlie's Angels... Whoa... whoa... no, wait. We're still talking about my brother here, right? Ugh. Disgusting.

I bet I'd be the hotter babe anyways. I'm the more beautiful guy after all. A natural beauty remains a natural beauty, no matter what. I bet I would've been the prom queen and surely would've won a lot of beauty competitions...

Which leads me to the question why I never participated in one of those male beauty competitions like Mr. Universe or whatyacallit. I would have won easily. I wonder if I'm already to old to participate.

Note to myself: Check the rules of Mr. Universe or any competition like that.

However. We just stumbled across a shapeshifter. One of Sammy's friends gave us the hint. I tell you, she's hot. Damn, I wouldn't mind receiving a little "thank you" for helping her, if you know what I mean. Of course, I have to help her first. We just met her.

Dean

Addition: I KILLED MYSELF! Well, not actually myself because then I wouldn't be writing this obviously. I killed the shapeshifter – that was in my shape. It was strange. Really strange. I mean, we are dealing with strange things every day but that was... weird. Weirder than anything before. When I shot him I was like: "I just hope that's really the shapeshifter and not me!" What?! It is confusing to shoot yourself. At least I know now that I look good even when I'm dead.

--

_Review?_


	4. If we were meant to fly we’d have wings

4: "If we were meant to fly we'd have wings"

Sammy is still trying to find out why I don't like flying. I told him all this stuff, I mean, like you're really fucked up when a plane crashes. And of course he said something like cars crash, too, and even more often. I know that but it's just... I just can't adjust myself to the thought that I'm flying some thousand miles above the ground. I mean, honestly, birds are meant to fly. But humans? Do you see any wings coming out my ass? No? See.

Let's just come to the point: If a plane crashes and you fall down all the way from the sky, what's left of you? A puddle of pulp. There's no way your bones would still be intact. I don't care if it's faster or whatever. Besides, everyone has to admit that my baby looks way better than any of these ugly birds built of steel.

And I can tell you you get better chicks with that car. Did you ever hear a chick say: "Oh, you came here by plane? Wow!" I bet you didn't. On the other hand, when they see my babe, they are like: "Wow, is that you're car?" So, I'm definitely on the winner site.

Not to mention that you see a lot more of the countryside if you drive all the way. Not that I'm particularly interested in the countryside but it sounds like a good argument. I just have to be convincing if I ever tell Sammy about the countryside-thing. Guess I took over some of his lawyer ways.

And I can't believe he's still occupied with that flying thing. How can anyone think about this for such a long time? That's just not normal. The boy should either find himself a hobby or a girl so he can stop bothering me. I am the one to worry about him not the other way around. After all, there isn't even a reason to worry. Being afraid of flying might not be too manly but it's not like I have a real problem. I'm completely normal. I just have a little weakness. And that's not even bad. Because, you see, I will admit it here, I bought that guidebook that I mentioned earlier – remember, the one that said chicks dig humor and brain? I went to the bookstore once more after I bought this journal here and got the guidebook. Just because it was really interesting. I don't really need it. I'm the born womanizer.

However, it says that women adore men that can admit their little weaknesses. So, I guess my fear of flying just makes me more attractive. Hard to imagine as I'm already so handsome.

I'm not sure if I will tell Sammy about these thoughts. I don't know if he will understand. He's not quite the genius with women. Maybe I should offer him some advice. He's not that bad... I guess we could find a nice lady for him. I will think this over and make a plan. Sammy, you're gonna be so thankful!

Dean


	5. What would I do if I wasn't a hunter?

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been reading this so far and especially to those who left reviews or added it to their favs! I just want to warn you right now that this chapter also contains some serious thoughts. I know I filed this story under humor but when I wrote this one it just felt right to put some of the sadder thoughts Deans has in it. Please tell me if you liked it or not, because I'm absolutely not sure about this chapter!_

5: "What would I do if I wasn't a hunter?"

This sucks. It's almost morning, we just finished off this ghost, Sammy's snoring happily beside me and I can't sleep. Guess the fifth cup of coffee was too much, then. And I don't even have anything smart to write. I'm just doing this because I don't have anything else to do. Of course I could clean the weapons but I have the feeling that they are perfectly clean after the three times I already did this. They might've been perfectly clean after the second time.

The town we're currently at is so small that it has only one bar – which has closed hours ago. If there are any hot babes they've successfully hidden themselves so far. Absolutely nothing to occupy me. Wear me out. Damn it. I'm gonna be so fucking tired tomorrow. Well, technically, it already is tomorrow.

I don't even dare turning on the TV. I'm convinced I would find some nice program, if you know what I mean, but I don't want to wake up Sam. He's always awkward with these kinds of things.

So... what would I be doing now if I wasn't a hunter? If I led a completely normal life instead, with a nice little house and garden, a wife, 2.4 children and a dog? First of all I most likely wouldn't be sleepless right now because I wouldn't have had to drink five cups of coffee to stay awake to hunt some evil sonofabitch. And even if I couldn't fall asleep now, I could wake my wife and we could make another 0.6 children. That's quite a pleasant idea. And I suppose I would definitely find sleep after that.

And then in the morning I'd get up and get to work – but what would my work be? I guess something practical. Sam's the college boy. I prefer _real_ work. I guess I'd make a pretty good mechanic. Maybe I'd have my own garage. I like the thought of being a boss.

But come to think of it – I just remembered writing about male beauty competitions somewhen earlier. Maybe I'd be a successful model by now. _America's Next Male Model. _Ha.

Well, if I'm honest, I don't believe that I really could work as some Calvin Klein underwear model. Not because I don't have the looks. I _have_ the looks. I would be a male Heidi Klum. And just imagine the beautiful ladies I'd get to know! But still, I think that if I wasn't a hunter I'd lead a completely normal life without any model contests or anything.

I wonder if I'd be as close to Sammy as I am now. He would be going to law school now. Sometimes I wish he just could do this. Live with Jess and become a lawyer. Sometimes I feel like it's my fault that he's here now and not at Stanford. I didn't really need his help finding Dad. It was just... Well, it was just that I didn't _want _to do it alone. I guess I was being selfish. Sometimes, at times like this, I keep wondering what would've happened if he had been there the night Jess died. If I hadn't made him leave her. Maybe he could've saved her. He would be leading the life he wanted. I know it won't make it better for him if I tear myself to pieces with self-reproaches. And I know that Jess probably would've died even if he'd been there. Mom couldn't be saved either. But it's so hard not to think of it. It was even harder at first, when Sam was having these nightmares. He knows that I'm worried about him but I never showed him that I was kind of... sorry, I guess, for making him come with me. And now it's even more important that I make sure he's safe. I can't let anything happen to him. Not after all that has already happened.

I'll try to get some sleep now. Writing down the thoughts that have occupied my mind for the last weeks wore me out more than I would've thought. Maybe this journal finally is good for something.

Dean


	6. I found the holy book!

6: "I found the holy book!"

Whoa, man! I can't believe it! I found the holy book – and I swear, I'm not talking about the bible! It isn't Playboy or Penthouse either. Hard to believe but it's true. The holy book is the guidebook I purchased the day I bought the journal. It's so crazy I didn't figure this out sooner. I mean, it was amusing and all, but I never took any of this serious. Until now.

Sammy went to the library to do some research and it took hours for him to return. (I'm still wondering why research king suddenly needed so long. Maybe there was some hot librarian that he hasn't been telling me about.) I didn't have anything important to do so I took a closer look at my guidebook. And guess what – the last chapter is freaking awesome! It's called "20 positions that will leave her screaming for more". I never expected to find a chapter like that in a guidebook that was about understanding a woman's mind. However, there was some nasty stuff in there that I will sure try out as soon as I get the chance to. Because it definitely sounds like it will give a lot of fun and pleasure to _me_, too. I'm so glad I bought that book. I thought I knew everything about satisfying a woman but some of things they mention were way out of my imagination.

Unfortunately, I was so occupied by the book that I didn't notice Sam coming back soon enough. He saw the book. He sure as hell laughed about it. I bit back every sarcastic retort for once. I just grinned and happily kept the secrets I had just learned to myself – there's no way I'm gonna share them with my baby brother. Maybe in 20 years if he's lucky. I'm gonna keep them to myself and make a lot of babes very happy...

It's a shame I didn't find that book earlier. I wasted years. And think of all the men that _never _stumble across it. But come to think of it... The woman who wrote this book must've found a man who knew all about these wicked things right before the book was written. How'd he know? Or... did she even find a man like this? Or is all this just what she dreams about, alone in her king size bed? Because, if it was, who could guarantee me that it works? She might be some kind of a freak and every normal woman runs when I try to lick some chocolate off her body.

What a mess. Maybe the things I just read are completely nuts. Damn it. Now who's gonna tell me if what she wrote is true or not? I could just ask any girl but I feel reluctant to do so. I mean, how do you do this? You don't go out and ask the next girl that comes your way if she'd like to try how warm chocolate feels on her boobs. And I sure as hell can't ask Sam. No way.

Well, maybe I just gotta try. I mean, some of the things really sound nice. It can't be too bad if it sounds nice, right?

Dean


	7. I need to work on my appearance

_A/N: Thanks to all who are still reading the story! I've been a little lacking in updates lately and I'm very sorry for it. I'm just very stressed out at the moment because my studies are starting next month and there are a lot of things to be done. So please forgive me if updates won't be regular for a little longer! I'm really sorry!_

7: "I need to work on my appearance."

Lately I got the feeling that I have to do something about my appearance. Not about my looks – hell, I look better than any man should be allowed to look. It's just that... Well... People tend to think that Sam and I are... ugh... are... kinda... involved, if you know what I mean. And I just do not get HOW they can think this because, hello, do I look like I'm gay? Do I look as though I'd waste my precious body on someone like _Sam_?

We've been to that sugary sweet little neighborhood for a job when it happened. The first time we corrected them, the second we – or more, I – played along but I have to admit, it gave me quite a hard time thinking. Because, sure as hell, not every man on this earth is mistaken for being gay just because he's in company of another man. It's got to do something with either my appearance or Sammy's. I prefer to think that it's mostly Sammy causing these idiots to think we're a couple but I guess it might be an advantage if I try to look more – well, what actually? Manly? Can't think of a way to look more manly than I do besides becoming a body builder. So, I'll just stick to the word "straight" right now. I don't use it that often because usually nobody questions me on _that_ issue.

However, I'm trying to find a way of changing my appearance. Problem is, I don't know _why _peoply could think that I'm into men. Let's see... I like watching Oprah, but no one knows about this – except for Sammy because I accidently spilled it. Do people sense it if someone watches this show? Maybe Oprah fans can feel it. Guess I'll not watch it for a little while. Just in case.

Damn, I'm gonna miss her.

Then we have the thing that I quite like showering. Don't know why that could make me appear gay. It's simply hygienic. It's supposed to make someone appear _clean._ All right, and if there's such a fancy steam shower it's fun. It's awesome. But my pain in the ass little brother kinda likes to point out the fact that I'm taking longer in the bathroom than any girl he knows. I'm not sure if he really has a point there because, come on, how many girls does he know? And even more important, what kind of girls are they, anyway? I always tell him that you can't rush perfection and that he'd probably look a little better if he'd taken a little more time in the bathroom. But maybe I'm also gonna take shorter showers now. Just in case, of course.

But other than that I can't come up with anything that could be the fault. I really believe it's all about Sam. It _has _to be about Sam. I've never been mistaken in my sexual preferences when I was out without him. Yeah, it's definitely him. Stupid of me to worry in the first place.

I gotta stop now – Oprah's starting!

Dean


	8. We've been home and Missouri is in Ka

8: "We've been home... and Missouri is in Kansas!"

We've been home. We've been home to Lawrence. Our old house was haunted by a poltergeist. When Sammy told me about it I wanted nothing more than to get as far away as possible. I called Dad, hoping that he could help us. Well, I don't know what I expected. He didn't pick up. I really wonder what's happened to him. Damn, I think it's not really fair of him to leave me here, absolutely clueless.

However, the bad feeling I had about this job was absolutely right. Once in that house, we met Mom. Mom. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her. Mom. It's even weird to just write this now. It was so good to see her again, to hear her voice and yet it hurt like hell. I felt like crying – which, of course, I did not. I'm not letting my guards down like that. I just wished that I could be a little boy again and that she never died. She was still so beautiful... I know this all sounds like I'm a goddamn pussy, but for now I just don't care.

However... Mom's gone now. She kind of destroyed herself in order to get rid of that damn poltergeist. At least that's what Missouri told us.

Ah, I haven't mentioned her before... Missouri. She's... hell, I don't even have a word for her. And I still fear she might be able to read this with her creepy ways and then come at me with a pan or something because she didn't like what I wrote. Because, you gotta know, she's some kind of a psychic. She reads minds. And damnit, she made me mad! She was always getting at me for something I hadn't even done or said just because I merely thought of it! I mean, that's so not right, she was just doing it. She should've at least asked for my permission before reading my most private thoughts. I so do not like it if somebody does that! Not that I have encountered too many psychics like her. But now that I _have_ met her, I'm not too keen on meeting more of her kind. No thanks.

Missouri... When Dad mentioned her in his journal I truly believed he was talking about the state! And who would think of something else? Missouri _is_ a state. Why would someone call his child by the name of a state? Well, I know, crazier names had been given to children, but this is just confusing. Maybe it would be a better idea for her to actually live in Missouri. Missouri living in Missouri isn't as confusing as Missouri living in Kansas. At least not in sentences like "I visited Missouri today." But I guess that name just helps her messing with people's minds. Yeah, I bet if people are confused about this whole name thing then their minds are... kind of... unprotected and she can just pull her mind-reader-crap.

Dean

Addition: It's 3 am and my plans to get Sammy a girl are progressing rather slow. The problem is that the kid doesn't show any interest! And I had some pretty tempting offers for him. I had a blonde with a rather well shaped figure... Then we had a petite brunette... And when I was about to show him the one with the red hair, he nearly screamed at me! I mean, alright, so her hair wasn't naturally red but that doesn't mean he has to go all bitchy on me! He should've been thankful to me. I put a great deal of effort into finding these girls for him. And they really were sad when he didn't do so much as sending them one single look. The brunette looked like she was about to cry. I had to comfort her a little. Well, this way at least I got to try some of the things mentioned in the holy book... One thing is for sure: When I left, the girl didn't have any reasons to cry! And also, there shall be no more doubts about the knowledge of the book's author. I maybe should look for other guidebooks written by that lady. Maybe one will give me an advice on how to handle Sammy. He's a bigger bitch than any chick.

--

_How about a little review?_


	9. How can Sammy be so resistant against gi

9: "How can Sammy be so resistant against girls?"

Alright, my little brother is just freaking me out. Officially now. During the past days I showed him about 38 classy chicks. And when I say classy, I mean it. I would have taken every single one of them to my room. Into my bed. Or on the table. Or in the shower. Even on the floor. But Sammy... he didn't even really look at them! It was like they were completely invisible to him. At some point he had me wondering if I went totally nuts and probably just made them up. If I could only see them in mind. Well, I guess I wouldn't be that totally crazy if the girls in my mind are still so hot. I would really worry if I'd see old ladies or something like that.

I know that I'm not crazy because this one girl had a rather quick tongue and I tell you, no mind, however fucked up it might be, could make up such a tongue. Ah, but Sammy is a real pain in the ass. He didn't want me to have a little fun with that girl and disturbed us – twice! Don't know why as he made it clear before, that he had no interest in her.

So now I gotta change my plans. I briefly considered introducing him to some men – I mean, if he is so completely not interested in any girl, maybe he prefers guys now? But however good my intentions might be I couldn't bring myself to hit on men for my brother. Even brotherly love has its limits.

Now I have to find a way to get his interest for some of the girls. I just don't really know how to do it. Maybe... mmm, maybe my presence disturbs him? Maybe he thinks that compared to me, you know, when I stand right _next _to him, he doesn't have a chance with the chicks? Yeah, that must be it. So... I need to find a way of making him meet a girl without actually being involved in the whole process. Does that make any sense? I probably should find him a girl and then tell her to take over the initiative. Maybe if he doesn't find out that I organised it he will be more open for her. If he thinks that it's all just her doing. Sounds good. I really think this could work.

Just – how do I find a girl that will hit on my brother? If she's seen me before? Well, I could pay her. But... no. That's not right. Sammy doesn't deserve this. He should have a girl that _really _likes him. For the person he is. I know this sounds kind of sappy, but sometimes it's hard to keep up the arrogant surface. After all, he is my brother. And right now, he's the only family I've left. I may pretend as much as I want – that I'm the cooler brother, the better looking – but in the end all that matters is that Sammy is safe and if possible happy. That's what Dad taught me when we were little. And that's what I'll do for the rest of my life – protect Sammy.

But before the rest of my life starts, I'll find him a girl.

Dean


	10. Sammy shot me!

_Hey everyone, I'm so sorry it took me so long to update, but I moved to another town and started studying and it really took so long until I finally (just today!) got access to the internet. I hope you will forgive me and still read the story and probably leave a review. ;) I just fear this chapter isn't very funny at all. _

10: "Sammy shot me!"

I can't believe it. This week's been so damn fucking crazy. You know... we've been to that freaking asylum with that freaking psycho doctor. He so brought out the worst of Sammy. He even shot me! Can you believe it? My geek little baby brother shot me! Luckily, it was only rock salt but the really creepy thing is that he would have shot me with real ammo. I am still so freaked out by that... I knew we had some issues but who'd have guessed it's that serious?! I really don't know what to do now. Right after that, when we were done with this evil sonofabitch and Sammy went back to normal – at least what I _considered_ normal – he wanted to apologize but I didn't want to talk about it. In all honesty, I _couldn't _talk about it. I think even now I cannot talk to him about it. I'm not sure I'll ever muster up the strength to talk to him openly about all the problems we still have.

And I truly believe that we still have a lot of problems.

Because right after that fucking job when I was recovering from that fucking wound on my chest – which DID hurt a fucking lot – Dad called. I gotta write this again because sometimes I feel like I only dreamed this. DAD CALLED. And, frankly, Sam was royally pissed that Dad gave us nothing but a new job. Didn't tell us were he was, not even the slightest hint. Of course I played the good soldier immediately, after all, _it was a job!_ But here's the thing – if I stop being all the brave, obedient soldier that Dad raised me to be, I can understand Sammy. Hell, I even feel kinda the same. I'm pissed that he wouldn't call in months and then say nothing but "do the job". And I'm disappointed that the only reason he called is to give us the job... He never called to see if I'm still alive or what the fucking hell happened in Lawrence. And don't even expect him to share what he's been up to lately. Sometimes I just feel so let down.

But then again, I'm 26 and I guess I can't expect my Dad to be around all the time. I know he's only doing it for the greater good. And whenever Sam starts complaining about him or criticizes him, I switch into defense mode naturally. Our Dad might not have been the perfect Dad, but he wasn't the worst either how Sam sometimes likes to point out. And, for heaven's sake, he's the only parent we have left. And he loves us. More than his own life. I know this. I know it.

Dean


End file.
